The Not So Terrific Trio
by MJshunpike
Summary: One Monday, during History of Magic, Harry speaks up and Hermione suggests something absurd, leaving Ron at her throat until Harry does something unforgivable. Old, dusty, and just because. Oneshot.


**Author's Note**: This little dusty one-shot was written a long time ago, not for a specific time or anything in Harry Potter world, but just as an idea. I thought I might as well put it up, because… Well, just because.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter. The End.

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**THE NOT-SO-TERRIFIC TRIO**

It was to a hazy Monday sky that Harry woke up in the boys' dormitory. Automatically, he put on his glasses and slowly slid out of his four-poster bed. He shook Ron whilst yawning and began to get dressed to head down to the Common Room. There, the two boys saw Hermione furiously scribbling on a piece of parchment.

'Don't tell me you stayed up all night to work on that Potions essay,' said Ron. 'Because yours already looks two feet longer than what Snape asked for.'

'Of course not! I just woke up a little early to finish it,' she responded a bit sheepishly.

'Are you telling me that Hermione Granger is finishing her homework _the day it is to be handed in?_' scoffed Ron jokingly. '_The_ Hermione Granger?'

'Well, er-'

'_Hermione_,' Ron mocked, 'Harry and I are very disappointed in you. I'm afraid I'll be posting that on the announcements board – "_Hermione Granger fails to complete impossible potions essay a week ahead of time."_'

Harry snorted whilst Hermione shot him a piercing glare.

'Let's go down for breakfast, shall we,' said Harry hopefully. 'I'm starving.'

'Yeah, me too,' said Ron, turning his back on Hermione as if to side with Harry.

After wolfing down breakfast, the three stood up and started walking to class.

'What've we got first thing, again?' asked Ron. 'Oh no. It isn't-'

'Yes, Ron, we _do_ have History of Magic,' Hermione said. 'And if I were you, I'd start paying attention, because I'm not giving you my notes to copy off of when exams come along.'

'But, _Hermione_,' Ron whined. Hermione gave him a look that would stare down a stone. 'Augh, fine!'

But when Hermione turned her back and started heading toward the staircase, Ron muttered to Harry.

'Merlin, when did she start to be such a-'

'I can _hear_ you, you know!'

'You two honestly need to shut up,' said Harry, heading up the staircase. 'All I ever hear from you two are insults and nagging, and frankly I'm getting really sick of it. So don't talk at all if you aren't going to… give compliments to each other or something.'

Harry waved his hand in the air as if dismissing even the slightest possibility that instead of jeering at each other, the two would begin to pull out flowers and sing love sonnets.

But Harry was glad and even surprised to notice that the two fell quiet as they reached the landing where Professor Binns' classroom was located. He relaxed and absorbed the pleasure of not hearing them argue, not caring that the two walked distantly on either side of him, eager to get as far away from each other as possible. Then, of course, Ron just _had_ to smile at Lavender as she walked by, and Hermione just _had_ to break the silence.

'Why, Ron, aren't your freckles particularly ugly today,' she said in a mock-sweet tone as they entered the brick-walled classroom.

Ron opened his mouth to retort when Harry cut him off.

'By definition, a compliment is an expression of admiration or praise. I think your statement fell a bit short of what the Hogwarts English Dictionary says, don't you, Hermione?'

Hermione was caught off guard – usually it was she who contributed to arguments with the use of books. Ron, noticing this, grinned and gave Harry a high-five.

'Yes, that's very nice, Mr Potter, now please sit down,' said Professor Binns as he waited at his desk.

'Whoa,' said Ron. 'That's a first.'

'First what?' asked Hermione, still bitter, but unable to contain her curiosity..

'The first time Binns noticed a student wasn't paying attention.'

'And I hope it won't be the last, Ron,' she said. 'That way you might be able to pass the exams without my help.'

'If you're so worried, why don't you try and pay attention instead of telling me off, then.'

'Fine, I will if you will.'

'Fine.'

'Fine.'

'Fine.'

'Fine,' said Harry, and the two stared at him with eyebrows raised. Seeing their confused faces, he continued. 'I'll try and pay attention, too, if it makes you feel better.'

'Fine,' said Ron.

'Not again, Ron,' said Hermione.

'F –'

'How about we just – pay – attention,' Harry said as he reached with both with hands to turn their heads in the direction of Professor Binns.

'…created conflict between the Gringott's Wizarding Bank construction and the second Goblin Rebellion-'

Harry and Ron were familiar with Professor Binns' method of teaching. The ghost teacher read directly from the textbook that lay on his desk with his usual monotone voice. He never looked up, but leaned very closely into the book and (they guessed) read every word that was printed, no more and no less.

That is why, when Professor Binns deviated from this highly regulated and mind-numbing manner, the boys noticed instantly. Or perhaps it was simply because it was the first time they had paid enough attention to notice.

'…the Gringott's Wizarding Bank was completed in 1649, in Diagon Alley,' Professor Binns had been lecturing. 'It was the only wizarding bank in London, and the first to be created in the Great Britain. That of course, is where we are now…'

Harry and Ron exchanged looks of bewilderment. _What?_ they thought. _Does he really think we're that thick? That we don't even know that we live in Britain?_

But Professor Binns carried on with his usual dull lecture about the Rebellions.

'I wonder if he's a robot,' said Harry.

'A what? Oh yeah, my dad told me about those things Muggles make – '

'Quiet, you two, I thought we agreed to pay attention,' said Hermione.

'It's hard,' Ron whined.

'I've got an idea,' Harry whispered to him.

Harry raised his hand. When he realized that Professor Binns didn't ever look up, he cleared his throat loudly.

'Er, excuse me,' he tried again, but the ghost showed no sign that he had heard him. 'Uhh… Professor? Professor Binns?'

'Excuse me, Professor,' Hermione said a bit louder than Harry. Binns looked up from his textbook and a few students raised their heads from smearing on their hands. 'Harry has a question.'

'Yes, Mr Potter, what would you like?' the ghost said with an annoyed voice.

'I wonder if you have an opinion on these matters. It just seems as though you never say anything additional to what is in the textbook.'

'Opinion is not history. Opinion is what one thinks about history, but it is strictly biased by the present world.'

'Yes that's all very well and all, but do you not know any more than what is in the book?'

The Professor opened his mouth to protest but Ron intervened.

'Surely a wizard – er, ghost – such as yourself would have some above-common-knowledge to say on the matter. Can you not tell us some interesting things about what you read to us?'

'If all you tell us is already in the textbook,' added Harry. 'We might as well read it ourselves. Why don't your tell us of the' – Harry strained to remember – 'the Goblin Rebellion in your own words?'

'Mr Weasley and Mr Potter, might I inform you that I teach all seven years and levels of the History of Magic. I, along with most of the wizarding world, do not have the capability of memorizing every moment in history.'

'But sir,' Hermione interrupted surprisingly. 'Teaching isn't memorizing. Neither is it reading from the textbook. Perhaps students would be more enthusiastic about History of Magic if we - you know - got to do activities and things.'

Several more students seemed to perk up and a few mumbled in agreement. Hermione looked prouder than ever with herself and had a smug look on her face.

'But Miss Granger, final exams won't come any easier, and will possibly be harder that way. We need to read from the textbook!'

'Then we can read from the textbook as homework!' she suggested brightly. But to her horror, the class murmured whilst shaking their heads and disagreeing with her in whispers. Hermione was clearly taken aback. Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and she leaned back a bit on her chair, as if trying to escape the wrath of her classmates.

'Poor Hermione,' sung Ron with mock-comfort. 'Are you confused? Wondering why on _Earth_ students wouldn't want piles of more homework everyday?'

Although the initial shock of suggesting class work as homework was quite appalling, the students began to calm themselves again, and a few even laughed and shook their heads. Harry was just glad that Professor Binns hadn't agreed to it.

'Excellent idea, Miss Granger! Please read chapters 32, 33 and 34 for next class. Unfortunately, because of Misters Potter, Weasley, and Miss Granger's discussions, we have no time for "activities." Remember now, chapters 32 to 34 for next class. I'll have a nice little test waiting so I know you've all read it!'

Harry and Ron were _not_ looking at Professor Binns with their eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed, lips pursed, and fists clenched. On the contrary, they were looking at _Hermione_ with their eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed, lips pursed, and fists clenched.

'DIM-WIT!' shouted Ron, when they had left the classroom. 'WHAT'D'JU DO THAT FOR, EH?'

'Don't start crying, Hermione,' Harry sneered. 'You know it's all your fault.'

'YOU – GUH!' Ron seemed to have a hard time releasing his anger in correct words.

'Do you realize what you've _done_?' said Harry. 'Binns is going to assign us reading homework every class! Think about what this will do to us! To the team!'

'Is that _really_ all you think about?' Hermione sneered through her tears. 'Quidditch?'

'Don't you _dare_ talk about Quidditch like you know something about it!'

'As if it's the only thing worth succeeding in!' continued Hermione. 'At your level, too! You'd think the Hogwarts Cup was some kind of Professional World Quidditch Competition or something, by the way you two are talking – '

'By the way we're – ?' Ron stopped mid-sentence, clearly awestruck at Hermione's logic.

'_What_, Ron?' said Hermione. 'It's not like you're actually considering being a professional Quidditch player or anything.'

'And what if I am?' asked Harry, as if the question was directed at him. Hermione simply opened her mouth in shock, as she had before, until the right words came out.

'But – but Harry, I thought… you wanted to be an Auror – '

'Oh yeah? Well what if I don't want to anymore?'

'Or must he gain permission from Hermione the Almighty Know-It-All before he can change his mind?' snapped Ron.

'No, I just – '

'Honestly, Hermione,' said Harry. 'You try to shame us about pursuing a sport rather than an academic field, but you know nothing about Quidditch, nothing!'

'Yeah,' said Ron. 'What do you think of all those people who didn't become a Healer, or an Auror, or a Professor? Like Bill or Charlie or – or my own Dad? Looking down on them too, are you? Think their nothing but rubbish, do you?

'Of course not! That's not what I meant – '

'Oh no,' said Harry, 'all you've ever meant was for everyone to be suffocated with homework, so we can all be as miserable as you. Come on, Ron.'

'Oh, go on then!' Hermione cried after them feebly. 'Gang up against me like you always do! Ron Weasley and Harry Potter – best of friends! But not Hermione, no, she's just a side-friend. You wouldn't think that after all we've been through, after all I've done for you! Helping you with homework, with exams, _saving your own skin from You-Know-Who_!'

Hermione had to stop her rant when tears began to flow and her voice began to crack.

'Saving _my_ skin?' said Harry as he turned around. '_My_ skin? From _Voldemort_? Who rescued you from being smashed against a toilet by a mountain troll!'

'I was only in there cause you were teasing me!' Hermione cried. But Harry continued as if she hadn't spoken at all.

'Who saved you from the Basilisk that would have killed you along with all the other Mudbloods!'

The word slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself. Hermione cheeks were wet but no more tears were swelling in her widened eyes. Her mouth hung open slightly, and soon her eyes changed from shocked to angry.

Harry, disappointed with himself but too proud to admit it, turned on his heel and walked away, shaking with fury. He never got to see Hermione's eyes change from angry to fearful, and from fearful to heartbroken.

But Ron, still shocked at Harry's behaviour, _did_ see her eyes, and the sadness that filled them, and it didn't take long for his own to mimic hers. He reached out his hand and softly grasped Hermione's. Now _his _cheeks were wet, but his jaw was clenched in rage.

Letting go of her hand, Ron dashed after Harry, and Hermione could hear the anger in his steps, and was glad, at least for a short moment, that Ron was standing up for her. But Ron's thoughts were bent on Harry, and his cruel words.

When Harry heard Ron's footsteps behind him he turned around and was met with a fist in his face before crashing to the floor. Harry opened his dizzy eyes and saw Ron towering over him and scowling down at him. He could feel blood trickling down his face from his burning nose – it was broken.

Without a word, Ron grasped him roughly by the robes and set him up on his feet.

'Just thought I'd knock you to your senses,' Ron said coldly. 'Now get over there and apologize.'

Unwilling to pick a fight with a broken nose, Harry stumbled dizzily back down the hallway to where Hermione was lying on the ground, sobbing. Seeing her in this state aroused such a great feeling of pity in him that it took no effort to swallow his pride.

'I'm really sorry, Hermione. I should never have called you a – a you-know-what.'

But Harry caught himself as he reflected on a similar memory. It was one of his father and mother as teenagers, and a young Snape who had called his mother a Mudblood. And later his father, rejecting the idea that he would ever call Lily a Mudblood. And Harry thought of his recent behaviour and grimaced to himself.

'All this time I've been ashamed of how my father acted in school. And here I am, more foolish and cruel than him. I'm no better than Snape was. Worse than James.'

Harry fell to the floor and wept into his hands. Then he felt a soft hand rub his back. He looked up with wet eyes. It was Hermione. She was smiling and crying at the same time.

'If you're worse than James then he must have been an exceptional wizard, Harry, because you two are my best friends, my only real, true friends. And I love both of you, no matter what stupid things come out of your mouths sometimes.'

'And yours,' said Ron, smiling. 'We're all in this together, mate. Have been ever since our first year at Hogwarts.'

Ron reached out his hand, and Harry took it insecurely, but Ron shook it vigorously. Then the three of them hugged each other tightly in a small circle, knocking their heads together, and staring down at the three pairs of feet that would follow each other on whatever path, to whatever end.

'Now let's get you to the hospital wing.'

'Thanks Ron,' Harry said sarcastically.

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